Through My Daughter’s Eyes by Julia Dye

Julia Dye has written stories since her childhood in Milwaukee, and although she writes about everything, she has an affinity for tales with a military flavor. Her father was a bomber pilot during World War II, and she married a Marine. She received a Gold Medal from the Military Writers Society of America.

Dye’s new book, Through My Daughter’s Eyes (Warriors Publishing, 191 pp., $14.95, paper; $2.99, Kindle), deals with the courage and sacrifice involved when a military family faces repeated deployments, including new towns and new schools that the children must adapt to.

Abbie is a middle school student and is the only child in an Army family. She’s described as “equal parts Flavia de Luce and Harriet the Spy, because she needs to be.”  Her goal, and that of her best friend Megan, is to get through Dessau Middle School “by being just good enough to not get noticed but not so good we’d draw attention.”  This plan works for a while—and then it doesn’t.

The moment when the plan ceases working is the subject of Through My Daughter’s Eyes. Abbie’s father gets deployed again to a combat zone and the stress causes her mother to fall apart, leaving Abbie in charge of things she is not qualified to be in charge of.

When Abbie’s father returns, he has changed in many of the usual ways that wars cause men to change. In other words, not for the better. He is not in the mood to talk about what had happened to him. She has her grandpa to talk to, which helps some, but not enough.

Abbie has to give up on being the one who saves her family. Grandpa’s talk about the Vietnam War is interesting, especially the part about how Americans were angry at the returning soldiers and how they became an easy target.

The novel is well-written in the voice of a child, and held my interest throughout. It is a book for young adults, but has plenty of appeal for adults.

I highly recommend it for both adults and young adults.

—David Willson

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Reflections on LZ Albany by James T. Lawrence

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James T. Lawrence’s Reflections on LZ Albany: The Agony of Vietnam (Deeds Publishing, 192 pp., $19.95, paper; $9.99, Kindle) is collection of rich personal essays, and is a different type of book on war.

The book captures the essence of the hearts of soldiers in combat, as well as the fears and challenges they faced. It is a book packed with true emotions from a man who was there in the early days of the Vietnam War.

Lawrence pulls the reader in with his opening essay, “The Band of Brothers,” introducing the bonds of brotherly love forged in the fires of combat. Lawrence is a former First Cavalry Division infantryman who bore the weight of leadership in combat. He survived a paralyzing head wound in the vicious fighting at Landing Zone Albany during the bloody November 1965 Battle of the Ia Drang Valley. While he was waiting in a medical tent with other wounded men he heard last rites being given amid the moans of men in severe pain.

Lawrence also brings the reader the joy of knowing war-time friendships—and the lasting sorrow of losing closing friends, something he describes in his rich essays “Conversations with a Tombstone,” “Voice from the Wall,” “The Premonition,” “Bringing in the Hueys,” and “Albany.” In “Just Don’t Ask Me,” Lawrence lays bare the pain of combat and suffering, and the realization of  lines of civility being crossed during war that can never be uncrossed.

Lawrence brings rich feelings to the surface. The reader can almost see him searching for young love in “She’s Out There” and feeling something  very different in “Dear John.” In the “Valley of the Shadow of Death,” he takes you into the triage tent with a chaplain. Lawrence’s prose immerses the reader in the intensity of the suffering in that dark and hot makeshift emergency room.

In “It’s All Over,” he describes what happens after he orders his first real meal in a restaurant after coming home from the war:

“And for the first time, the young ex-officer realized that the people back home, with the exception of family, had no idea what was going on in Southeast Asia and could care even less.  He had been in a battle where over 150 of his colleagues had been killed and over 120 wounded, including himself, but nobody knew and nobody gave a damn.

Evacuating a casualty from LZ X-Ray. Photo by Joe Galloway

“Now in his first day as an American civilian, he felt alone, isolated, unacknowledged, and unappreciated in a city of millions whose freedoms he thought he had fought to protect.  And for the very first time, he asked himself a question. Why?”

Jim Lawrence has captured the soul of soldiers in war in Vietnam. He speaks truth to the emotions of those who fought so hard and paid such a price.

This is a must read for students and scholars And for political and military leaders to help them realize the costs they ask to be paid when they send troops into harm’s way.

–Bud Alley

The Restless Wave by John McCain and Mark Salter

Politics runs the gamut from head-butting battles to bipartisan friendships. John McCain has experienced both extremes during his thirty-year career as a United States Senator. Now, challenged by life-threatening brain cancer, he has written The Restless Wave: Good Times, Just Causes, Great Fights, and Other Appreciations with his long-time literary collaborator Mark Salter (Simon & Schuster, 416 pp. $30, hardcover; $14.99, Kindle). In this memoir, McCain looks back and evaluates his contributions to American politics.

Whenever McCain—a Vietnam War hero who endured unimaginable hardships when he was held prisoner in North Vietnam for five-and-a-half years—encountered a problem for which he saw a political solution, he pursued it anywhere in the world. He explains his good and bad performances without boasting or excusing himself. In doing so in this book, he resolved some questions that I had but were never satisfactorily answered in the news media over the past decade or two.

McCain’s principal efforts focused on democracy and human rights, immigration, and rendition and torture of prisoners. Late in the book, he cites his ideals to provide guidelines for American leaders based on our historical responsibility to humanity.

Both directly and indirectly, McCain finds fault with the decisions and demeanor of President Trump and what McCain characterizes as “odd characters involved in [his] campaign.”

Similarly, he condemns the behavior of Vladimir Putin and classifies him as “our implacable foe,” as well as a criminal who “might be the wealthiest person on earth” based on stealing from the Russian people. With that belief foremost in mind, McCain analyzes Russia’s goals and its association with the vulnerable former Soviet republics, where he frequently has traveled to support their quests for freedom.

McCain also finds fault with his own leadership role. He berates himself for supporting the invasion of Iraq and accepting the lie that the nation had weapons of mass destruction. To his credit, during 2004-07, he repeatedly visited Iraq and Afghanistan and questioned military strategies, particularly the counterinsurgency program and manpower needs. He ventured to the Middle East throughout the Arab Spring.

Along with his efforts to improve the world, McCain also evaluates his 2008 run for the presidency. These chapters are the most insightful because McCain accepts responsibility for losing the election.

“I had a full opportunity to persuade Americans they should trust me with the security and prosperity of our civilization,” he writes. “I didn’t convince them.” He also notes that running for president, “on the whole,” was “the privilege of a lifetime.”

McCain has written six other books with Salter, who has worked on his staff for eighteen years. Last year, Elaine S. Povich produced John McCain: American Maverick, a coffee-table-sized collection of photographs and text, which The Restless Wave  complements.

Even if you had never heard of John McCain, reading The Restless Wave would make you want to pick him for your team. He is relentless in his pursuit of helping oppressed people predicated on his appreciation of American exceptionalism.

—Henry Zeybel

The Romanovsky Stain by Duke Zimmer

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Duke Zimmer is the pseudonym of a writer, producer, and director who has produced more than fifty nonfiction films and has written scores of newspaper and magazine articles. He enlisted in the U.S. Army and spent five years in Western Europe during the height of the Cold War as a counterintelligence agent with the 66th Military Intelligence Brigade. He served as a recon scout with the Echo Company of 2nd Battalion, 506th Infantry. in the 101st Airborne Division in Vietnam from December 1969 to November 1970 when he was wounded in action.

The Romanovsky Stain: After Action Report (Tate Publishing, 320 pp., $4.50, paper; $3.99, Kindle) is the first of five novels in a series featuring Jacob Steiner as the main character and narrator. Steiner shares much of his military history with his creator, having also served “a stint with the 101st Airborne Division in Vietnam.” He says he left with enough shrapnel in his body to set off a metal detector seven feet away.

Steiner “got a gig with the CIA through a friend and former teammate in Vietnam, Daniel Bornaire,” Zimmer writes. “We called him Zippo, Zip for short.” Officially he was a trade rep, but unofficially he was a spy.

The Romanovsky Stain is a spy novel of the sort that all readers of spy novels are familiar with.  The hero starts off as a captive, chained to a pipe in the hold of a ship and hopeful that if he gets free, he might have a chance of making it to the side of the ship, jump overboard, and swim to shore. This sort of derring-do is fun to read about if it is made half-way believable. Zimmer—presumably drawing on his actual experiences—does make it both fun and believable.

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Zimmer

There is much mention of the Vietnam War in this book, including one character saying in passing, “the toughest job in Nam was being a nurse.” There’s also this comment about high-tech weapons: “If we’d had this stuff in Nam, there’s no telling.” John Wayne gets a mention, and typical nicknames are used for characters, such as “Pinto,” who has a wine stain birthmark on his face.

My favorite comment in this book about the war is that “in Vietnam, we often slept with one eye open. People don’t believe it’s possible. Believe me, it is.” Maybe Tarzan could do it, but it’s hard to believe that recon teams in the bush would get any real sleep, one-eyed or two. If you do believe that anyone can sleep with one eye open, perhaps this is the book for you.

There will be four more of them featuring Jacob Steiner. That’s both a warning and a promise.

—David Willson

The World Looked Away by Dave Bushy

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Dave Bushy’s The World Looked Away: Vietnam after the War: Quoc Pham’s Story (Archway Publishing, 422 pp. $39.99, hardcover; $25.99, paper; $2.40, Kindle) tells the story of Quoc Pham and his family during and after the 1975 communist takeover of South Vietnam.

Bushy is a consultant and executive coach for clients in aviation and other businesses. He served as a U.S. Army Intelligence staff officer in in Germany from 1975-77.

Quoc Pham served as a South Vietnamese Navy lieutenant. In April 1975, he opted to stay behind and fend for his family rather than accept a guaranteed escape to freedom.

The World Looked Away is very well researched and is well-illustrated with photos. It is a first-hand look at what happened to Quoc, his family, and others who opted to (or had to) stay in South Vietnam after the war ended. To this day, many Vietnamese refer to 1975-85 as “The Ten Dark Years.”

Each chapter begins with a quote from a Buddhist or Vietnamese proverb or from an individual.  For example:  “A little food while hungry is like a lot of food while full.” And “What money can’t buy, more money can.” Both are Vietnamese proverbs.

The World Looked Away centers on Quoc and his personal experiences, but to better understand the bigger picture, the narrative periodically breaks away to describe the experiences of other South Vietnamese people around Quoc. The love and camaraderie of Quoc, his wife King-Cuong, and their extended family is central to their survival and eventual success.

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When he was imprisoned in a re-education camp in Vietnam, a fellow prisoner told Quoc: “We lost the war. The key now, is not to conquer, but to survive.” This entire story, in fact, is one of survival. The brutality of the communist conquerors was harsh and sustained. It was imposed on the prisoners in the camps and on the population at large.  Its purpose was not re-education but retribution.

The World Looked Away is a must-read for anybody interested in seeing what can happen when freedom is lost, and what can be accomplished if you never give up.

It is riveting and pulsates with hope and fear, victory and defeat.

— Bob Wartman

Chasing Charlie by Richard Fleming

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War veterans are people who wrote a blank check payable to their nation for any amount, up to and including their lives. In this regard, Richard Fleming says that those who close with the enemy rank above support troops. He admits that men behind the lines sometimes endured bomb, mortar, and rocket attacks, but that exposure did not equate to facing an enemy.

Fleming makes his case in a memoir, Chasing Charlie: A Force Recon Marine in Vietnam (McFarland, 242 pp. $35, paper; $9.99, e book). Operating primarily from Da Nang and An Hoa during his post-Tet 1968-69 tour in the Vietnam War, Fleming took part in twenty-seven patrols, the most among his 1st Force Reconnaissance company.

Some men can tell you things you have heard before and make them sound brand new. Richard Fleming is one of them. His 20/10 vision exposes small details in the big picture. He sees inside men and situations. He portrays heroes and screw-ups.

Assigned to intelligence gathering missions, eight-man Force Recon teams helicoptered into areas controlled by the North Vietnamese Army in South Vietnam, Laos, and Cambodia. Their ultimate goal was to kidnap an NVA soldier worthy of interrogation, a feat they seldom accomplished.

Far too often, the team encountered superior-sized enemy forces. When they did, in an instant the hunter became the hunted. The unit did what they were trained to do: briefly engage, then run to the nearest landing zone for extraction or die. Fleming explains how the NVA slowly adjusted its counter-tactics to intercept recon teams.

Force Recon patrols lasted for indefinite periods, but usually stayed out for at least a week. In one instance, prolonged bad weather prevented helicopters from picking up Fleming’s team and the stranded men starved to exhaustion, barely able to walk.

Fleming’s most dynamic combat encounter occurred when his team joined with a contingent of grunt Marines and went head to head with NVA forces in a long and bloody battle that nobody won.

For Force Recon, fighting did not stop when team members returned to base. At that point, they encountered desk-bound leaders who, Fleming says, did not appreciate the recon units’ work in the field. The pettiness of officers and senior NCOs became tiresome and difficult to endure—even reading about it fifty years after the fact.

Fleming is particularly cogent in recalling his relationships with officers in the rear. He writes that he became a target for abuse because, while on guard duty, he accidentally embarrassed a drunken captain. Most of the staff officers sided with the captain and harassed Fleming with endless extra duties.

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A 1st Force Recon Marine unit in Vietnam

The book’s only flaw is that it contains too many typographical errors such as missing words, repeated words or phrases, and misspellings. I blame the publisher for this problem because it appears that editing changes were entered improperly. Otherwise, I enjoyed reading Chasing Charlie and learning about the idiosyncrasies of Force Recon operations from the perspective of an enlisted man.

“My knowledge of the war was limited to what I could see a few hundred feet in front of me,” Fleming says.

Within that range, he saw more than enough.

—Henry Zeybel

Happiness is a Warm Gun by Cheryl Breo

Cheryl Breo’s memoir, Happiness is a Warm Gun: A Vietnam Story (Tellwell Talent, 68 pp., $20.99, hardcover; $10.99, paper; $3.99 Kindle), starts with a sentence about her husband that is typical of much of this small book: “He would grab me by the neck with one hand wrapped around my throat and lift me straight off the ground, my feet dangling as he pushed me up against a wall, banging the back of my head against it until it nearly cracked.”

The book, Breo tells us, is “a personal account of my life. It bears no endorsement or authorization from the Beatles or Apple Corps.” The spine of this heavily illustrated little book is made up of quotes and references to the Beatles and their songs. The book focuses on the aftermath of Cheryl’s husband Ed’s  tours of duty in the Vietnam War,  something that brought “that war home to our front door.”

The Vietnam War “and all its hell,” Breo writes, “took the man I married and made him its victim, and in turn, he made me his victim.”  In the Breo household the refrigerator was almost empty, the bills were all past due, and eventually the couple lost their house and their pets and were forced to live in sketchy neighborhoods.

“Even my Liverpool lads reminded me that ‘Happiness is a Warm Gun,’” Breo writes. And then things got worse. Her daughter had a breakdown and Breo contemplated suicide before she took the Beatles’ advice, “She’s Got a Ticket to Ride,” and she used that ticket.

So this blackbird took her broken wings and flew into the light of the dark black night of freedom. Ed Breo finally resigned himself to acknowledging that he needed help and went to the VA. But the VA didn’t help him enough. The “stigma” of being a Vietnam War veteran, Breao writes, lingered “like the stench of the treatment they received from this country when they returned home.”

Cheryl Breo

A walk through the airport, she writes, “became a war zone of its own, as complete strangers yelled vulgar obscenities at him; calling him a ‘baby killer,’ a ‘murderer.’ “

In the dedication, Cheryl Breo writes that John, Paul, George and Ringo “saved my life many times over.”

She was friends with her husband until the day he died after the book was published in 2017.

How they did that, I don’t know, but buy this book and read it and find out how the Beatles were a big part of the therapeutic treatment that enabled them to survive being treated horribly.

—David Willson